Traveling Soldier
by audi katia
Summary: One name read and no one really cared, but a pretty little girl with a bow in her hair. ::UxY AU::


**Author's Note: **I'll admit it, I cried a little while writing this story. I wrote it all yesterday and to keep me inspired, I listened to the song "Traveling Soldier" over and over. This fic was inspired by one of lyoko19's videos on youtube. It's an MV of Yumi and Ulrich set to the song "Traveling Soldier" by the Dixie Chicks, and it's beautiful.

**Dedication: **To all the soldiers, specifically my friend's brother.

**Notes:**  
-This is AU.  
-This is a one shot, so no new chapters.  
-I know that France is not part of the war against Iraq. This fic takes place in America.  
-I did my best to be realistic about the war. If someone notices a mistake, please let me know. I'll do my best to fix it.  
**-bold **means song lyrics  
_-italics _means letter

* * *

**Two days past eighteen,  
he was waitin' for the bus in his army green.**

The bus usually ran late. Yumi thought everyone in Kadic knew that. But there he sat with his knapsack, forty five minutes early at the bus stop outside the Kiwi Café.

Washing the empty tables and handing out food orders, Yumi was too busy to keep too much of an eye on the man at the bus stop. But whenever she did spare a moment, she glanced out the window, and he would still be patiently waiting for that bus.

The dinner rush was slowing down, and Yumi was finally able to catch her breath. She started clearing off the table that an older couple had just vacated when a fellow waitress came up behind her.

"Yumi," Aelita started, "maybe you should go and tell that man that the bus won't be here for a while."

"The bus is always late, Aelita," Yumi answered, balancing several dirty plates on her arms as she walked towards the back sink. "It'll come eventually."

"Well, I was just listening to the radio, and apparently there's back up on Route 22. So there's probably a few more hours until the bus comes," Aelita said across the room, cleaning up a spill left on a table.

At this news, Yumi looked out the window for the umpteenth time to see the man still waiting on the bench outside. Signaling to Aelita that she was about to take her ten minute break, she walked outside.

The moment she left the comforts of the air-conditioned café, Yumi felt the summer heat surround her body. The sun was still high in the sky and beating down its powerful waves. Yumi looked at the man on the bench and wondered how uncomfortable he was in his long sleeved army greens.

"Excuse me, sir," she called out hesitantly once she got close enough to the bench. The man turned around, and Yumi gave a small cry of surprise.

"Sir?" the stranger asked, an amused expression on his face.

Now up close to the stranger, Yumi saw that he was only a boy about her age, maybe younger. His brown hair was cut short in traditional army style, and his face was clean shaven with sharp angled planes.

"Oh, sorry," Yumi offered. "I thought you were older."

"That's alright, miss," the boy answered, his green eyes squinting in the sunlight as he looked up at her. Yumi found herself returning his small smile.

"Well, I just wanted to come out here and let you know that there's a back up on Route 22," she explained. "The bus'll probably come in a few hours."

Sighing, the stranger slumped back into the bench and pressed his hands to his face. Yumi watched helplessly as he brooded for a bit.

"Um, you're welcome inside. It's air conditioned and everything. Your clothes don't look too comfortable for this weather." She gestured to his army pants tucked into shiny black boots.

Lifting his head from his hands, he looked at her quizzically for a moment. Feeling abashed under his gaze, Yumi excused herself and headed back into the café. She avoided Aelita's questioning stare and began bustling around and filling half empty ketchup bottles.

**Sat down in a booth in a café there,  
gave his order to a girl with a bow in her hair.  
He's a little shy so she gives him a smile.**

A bell tinkled near the door, and Yumi looked up to see that the boy had just entered Kiwi Café. His eyes scanned the room before noticing an empty booth over by the windows. He sat down noiselessly, placed his bag by his feet, and began looking around the café in mild interest.

Yumi continued to watch the stranger as he smiled at the colorful "Daily Specials" sign that she and Aelita had worked on earlier. Aelita set down an order of food and came to stand next to Yumi.

"Well," Aelita prompted, giving Yumi a slight push. "Go take his order."

"It's your table," Yumi whispered, worried that he might hear the girls talking about him. For some reason, her stomach was filled with butterflies. She swallowed quickly and looked back at her best friend.

"Yeah, but you've already talked to him. Go on, he looks lonely," Aelita said, trying to persuade her. She pushed the small of Yumi's back so that Yumi nearly stumbled into the table.

"Um, hi," Yumi stuttered, pulling her notepad and pencil out of her apron pocket. The handsome boy looked up at her quickly before looking away with a blush on his face.

Heartened by his shyness, she smiled. He turned to look at her again. The blush was still pink on his face, but he managed to grin in return.

"Hello again, miss," he said quietly. His voice was steady enough, but Yumi watched his fingers drum nervously against the table top, and his foot tapped a beat underneath.

"Can I take your order?"

"Just some water, please," he said, smiling again. This time, Yumi noticed that his smile did not take away the anxious expression in his eyes.

She nodded and then went off to get his drink.

**And he said, "Would you mind sittin' down for a while  
and talkin' to me?****  
I'm feelin' a little low."  
She said, "I'm off in an hour, and I know where we can go."**

A mellow oldies song drifted lazily out of the radio on the counter as Yumi returned with a tall glass of ice water. She placed the drink down in front of him and wiped the condensation from her hands onto her apron.

"Thank you," he replied politely. Yumi lingered for a moment while he took a sip.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" she asked as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Oh no, miss, that won't be necessary," he answered. He looked at the top of her head for a moment, as though examining her ponytail.

"That's a cute ribbon," he commented idly. Yumi scowled and tugged on the bow of her yellow ribbon that was tied around her ponytail.

"They make us wear this ribbon," she complained, tightening the dreaded ribbon to make sure it would not slip off.

"Good," the stranger said, "because it looks cute on you."

Yumi felt a blush burn her cheeks so she hastily avoided his gaze and smoothed out the collar of her pale pink work shirt.

"Well, if you don't need anything else," she trailed off and began walking off to rid herself of her blush and help other customers. Before she walked more than two steps, the boy called her back.

"Yes?" she responded, turning around to see that he, too, was blushing again.

"This might sound a little weird, but would you mind sitting down for a while and talking to me? I'm feeling a little low," he muttered. His blush deepened, but he determinedly locked his gaze with hers. She felt his green eyes burning into her own brown eyes and found that she could not say no even if she wanted to.

Pulling her gaze away, Yumi looked down at her watch to see when her shift would be finished.

"I'm off in an hour," she told him. "Then I just have to clean up and then I know where we can go."

He grinned brightly, and Yumi could not for the life of her understand why she had just agreed to talk to someone whose name she did not even know. But there was something in the way he had looked at her that she just could not explain.

"Alright. I'll wait here until you're done, miss."

"I have a name, you know," she said, mock-angry. She motioned to the name tag on her shirt and looked pointedly at him. He leaned forward to see the small black lettering.

"Yumi," he read carefully. She nodded in conformation, and he turned a full smile on her that made her dizzy.

"Nice to meet you, Yumi. I'm Ulrich."

He gave her a little wave and then turned away to take another sip of his water. Yumi stood unmoving for a moment before a crash in the backroom made her jump. She hurried to help clean up the mess of plates and food, the whole time wondering how painfully long the rest of her shift would feel.

**So they went down, and they sat on the pier.  
He said, "I bet you got a boyfriend, but I don't care.  
I got no one to send a letter to.  
Would you mind if I sent one back here to you?"**

"What is this place?" Ulrich asked, looking at his surroundings. He and Yumi stood on an old bridge that had led to a once working factory. The factory had been long since abandoned and was slowly aging. The once gleaming surface was now rusted, and some of the wiry bridge cables had undone.

Ulrich eyed the frayed cables warily before looking back at Yumi.

"Are you sure it's safe here?" he asked her in a disbelieving tone. Yumi laughed and sat down on the edge of the bridge. She let her feet dangle as she held on to the safety rail.

"It's fine. I used to come here all the time when I wanted to be alone," she said. He shrugged and joined her, and the pair sat along the edge. Yumi peered into the water far below and could see two blurred, pale images of herself and Ulrich reflected in the river.

"You know, I went to school at Kadic Academy. We dared people to try to get as close as they could to the factory. One kid Herve even got dared to sleep in the factory overnight," Ulrich reminisced. He leaned back on his elbows and Yumi watched as the setting sun cast an orange glow onto his face.

"You went to Kadic Academy?" she questioned. Kadic Academy was a private boarding school that her parents had always wanted to send her to, but could never afford it. She and Aelita had gone to Kadic Public instead.

"Yeah, I was there on a soccer scholarship," Ulrich confirmed.

"When did you graduate?"

"About a month and a half ago."

Yumi stared at Ulrich for a moment before her brain could perceive the information. This boy, only a year younger than her, was about to join the army and fight for his country.

"Wait, you only just graduated? And you're going off to war?" Yumi queried slowly, wondering if she had misunderstood something.

His nod proved to her that she had, in fact, understood him correctly.

"I wasn't really headed for college. Soccer scholarships only get you so far," he explained. Then with a sheepish smile, he continued. "Plus, I'm not the smartest guy around. Not at all. Anyway, I thought it would be best to join the army then. Just turned eighteen two days ago, so I signed up and I'm getting shipped out to Germany for training."

Ulrich moved his bag so that it was behind him before leaning his head back against it. He shut his eyes contentedly for a moment and, eyes still shut, he continued to talk.

"That's kinda why I wanted to talk to someone today. I'm a little nervous and all," he confessed. Yumi reached out to enclose his hand in hers to comfort him. His eyes opened, and he looked surprised to see their fingers entwined.

"Yumi?" He spoke softly, still staring at their joined hands.

"Yes?"

"I bet you got a boyfriend, but I don't care. I've got no one to send a letter to," he said quietly. His words sounded deep from within his chest, and it seemed that he could not meet her gaze.

"Would you mind if I sent one back here to you?" His voice was warm and sweet like melted honey, and Yumi felt her heart rate quicken.

"I'd love that," she answered honestly. "And Ulrich? I don't have a boyfriend," Yumi admitted gently. Once again surprised, he looked up as a grin dawned on his face.

Yumi turned her head, and the two of them sat in comfortable silence for a while and watched as the oranges, pinks, and purples blended against each other in the sky. The sound of the river lapping against the bridge and the muted sounds of the city nearby played continuously in the background as steady white noise.

"Why'd you pick me?" Yumi wondered aloud, breaking the gentle quiet. Ulrich leaned forward into a sitting position. His face was only a few inches from hers when he lifted a hand to gently touch the yellow ribbon she had forgotten to remove.

"I guess because you smiled at me," he told her truthfully. At his sincere comment, Yumi bit the corner of her lip and felt very exposed under his gaze. He leaned forward just a tiny bit more before whispering, "I really do like that ribbon."

The colors of the sky disappeared from her view as her eyes slid shut, and the background noise faded away as the pounding of her heart grew louder in her ears. Ulrich's lips touched hers softly, and Yumi melted against him.

They pulled away and smiled shyly at one another. Warmth spread through Yumi, and her lips tingled pleasantly. She felt the smile widen on her face, and Ulrich took her hand into his own once more.

"I guess another reason is that you have the prettiest smile I've ever seen."

**I cried,  
never gonna hold the hand of another guy.  
"Too young for him," they told her,  
waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier.  
Our love will never end,  
waitin' for the soldier to come back again.  
Never more to be alone when the letter said  
a soldier's comin' home.**

Yumi could not remember a time when her house had been more silent. Placing her coat in the hall closet, she could hear murmuring coming from the kitchen. Wondering why her parents were using such somber tones, she cautiously walked into the bright kitchen.

Her parents sat stiffly in their seats at the kitchen table and Yumi's eyes immediately fell to the envelope that lay as a centerpiece. It hadn't been open, but it was clear from the army stamp of approval on the front that it was from Ulrich.

"Well?" the deep voice of her father commanded her to look up at him. "Who is this from?"

"Ulrich Stern," Yumi answered in a quiet voice. Her father's eyes narrowed as Yumi proceeded to tell her parents about how she and Ulrich had met and about how he was a soldier. By the time she was finished, her mother was looking pityingly at her daughter, and her father's face was red with anger.

"You're too young for him!" he shouted, standing up from the table abruptly.

Yumi felt a streak of anger and indignation course through her body as she yelled, "How can that be? He's younger than me!"

She looked wildly at her mother, hoping that at least she would understand. As her mother continued to look on pityingly, Yumi knew there would be no support from her parents.

"He's too young for this, too, sweetheart," her mother said in a low voice. Her father grunted before waving a warning finger at Yumi.

"What if he dies?"

"Takeo!" Her mother screamed at her father, glancing fearfully at Yumi.

"He won't die! He's doing so well with his training," Yumi promised. The idea of Ulrich dying was… more than she could bear. Yumi kept rambling on, trying to convince herself as much as her parents that Ulrich would be safe. "He's too modest to say anything, but from what he does say in his letters, it sounds like he's the best in the troop."

Once again, her father grunted in utter disbelief. He moved away from the table in order to get closer to Yumi. Her mother followed him around the table, hovering close to his elbow.

"That's training, not real life!" he bellowed, interrupting Yumi's insistences that Ulrich would survive the war.

"Takeo!" Yumi's mother screamed again. This time, she grabbed hold of his shoulder in an effort to restrain him. Takeo did not bother to look at his wife, but when he spoke again, he used a tone at a more average volume.

"And what about when he's out of the army? What are you two going to do then? Rely on only your income from that damn café?" His facial expression hardened as he held thought of the worst case scenario for his daughter.

"You're using that money for college, Yumi," he reminded her. He made a motion as though to grab her shoulder, but at the last second, seemed to think better of it. In a softer voice, he continued, "I don't want you to ruin your life for him."

"I'm not ruining anything for him!" Yumi shouted in return, bitter tears make their way down her flushed cheeks. "He makes everything so much better, can't you see?"

Anger and bitterness filled her to the brim, and she felt as though her very bones had been lit on fire by the sheer force of her frustration.

Unable to stand in that kitchen with her parents any longer, she tore through the hallway and up the stairs. Behind her, she could hear her mother call her name desperately.

Yumi threw herself into her room. Unseen by her parents, the tears ran unashamed down her face. She collapsed onto her bed, her head turned towards the ceiling. Heart breaking sobs racked her tired body until her head was pounding and her stomach ached.

"Yumi." Her mother opened the bedroom door slowly, and rather than face her mother, Yumi turned her whole body to face the wall.

"He's not going to die! He'll be fine," Yumi insisted repeatedly. Her mother sat on the bed with her, rubbing Yumi's back comfortingly. She felt too exhausted to tell her mother to stop, and hated herself for being comforted by her mother's presence.

"He'll come home and we'll be together," Yumi said between hiccups. "I don't know how, but we'll work something out." She gave a shuddering breath and squeezed her eyes shut. She willed away the image of Ulrich dead.

"He's not going to die," she whispered heatedly over and over.

"I know, darling, I know," her mother said soothingly in a tone that suggested otherwise.**  
**

**So the letters came from an army camp  
in California then Vietnam,  
and he told her of his heart.  
It might be love and all the things he was so scared of.  
He said, "When it's gettin' kinda rough over here,  
I think of that day sittin' down at the pier,  
and I close my eyes and see your pretty smile.  
Don't worry, but I won't be able to write for a while."**

_Dear Yumi,_

_Glad to hear that you're still doing well. Things are fine here in Germany. We're almost done training though. It was tough, but it'll be worth it when we win the war. It's actually been pretty fun, some of it._

_There's this guy in my troop, his name is Odd Della Robbia (Yes, that is his real name.). Apparently he grew up in Blansche, which is two towns over from Kadic so he's from around our area. He's pretty funny. He does great impressions of Sergeant Morales and he eats all the time. But he stays real skinny and I don't know how he does it. Anyway, he's been teasing me about you. I showed him that picture of you that you sent me and he says I'm lucky to have a girl back home. I told him I was the luckiest guy in the world._

_I don't know about you, Yumi, but I think this might be love. You know what's strange? I used to be afraid of love. I'd rather lock myself up in a room alone than fall in love. But now that I've met you, I can't really remember why I was so scared in the first place._

_You asked me why I wanted to join the army. I guess I didn't tell you everything that day at the factory. What I said about not wanting to go to college was true. That's why I don't write home to Dad anymore. He didn't approve of me joining the army so I guess he just disowned me. It's not a problem though, we were never that close anyway._

_But you're going to laugh when I tell you why I joined. If truth be told, I've always wanted to be a hero. I used to play those video games when I was younger where you had to save the princess from the tower and defeat the bad guy. All the movies I watched, all the games I played, I always wanted to be the one to save the princess._

_In Iraq, there's no princess. Honestly, I don't know what to expect in Iraq. Even if I don't save a princess or save a bunch of people, I still want to go and fight._

_Promise me you won't worry too much about me. You wrote in your last letter that you dropped plates at Kiwi Café when you heard in the news about casualties of war. Please, please don't worry. I'm fine. I'm not even in combat yet._

_On the nights that I have watch duty, and they practice shooting at us, it does get a little nerve wracking. But when things get rough over here, I think of that day at the factory. I close my eyes and see your pretty smile. It makes everything seem better._

_It's lights out soon, Yumi, so I have to finish this letter. Sergeant Morales is pretty strict about lights out. He says we'll be heading out to Iraq in a few days. Don't worry, but I won't be able to write for a while._

_Can I tell you that I love you? Or will you get too weirded out? Well, just in case you don't mind, let me tell you: I love you._

_  
-Ulrich_

_P. S. Thank you for sending me your yellow hair ribbon. I keep it in the pocket close to my heart._

**  
I cried,  
never gonna hold the hand of another guy.  
"Too young for him," they told her,  
waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier.  
Our love will never end,  
waitin' for the soldier to come back again.  
Never more to be alone when the letter said  
a soldier's comin' home.**

"You can't love him," Jeremie stated bluntly. He sat on the edge of one of the counter seats at Kiwi Café with his hands flat on the table.

"And exactly why not?" Yumi demanded to know. Throwing down the rag she had been using to wipe the crumbs off the counter, she placed her hands on her hips and glared menacingly at Jeremie. He eyed her defensive stance nervously and fidgeted in his seat before continuing.

"You only met him once. Sure, you two have talked through letters, but that's not the same thing," he said, trying to rationalize his reasoning.

Aelita broke across the breech between Yumi and her boyfriend to pick up the abandoned rag.

"Of course it's not the same, he's in a different country. But he and I have been writing back and forth for eight months now," Yumi stressed. Her voice was raising in volume, but she could not care less if the customers heard her.

"Aelita, what do you think about all of this?" Jeremie asked, rounding on Aelita. Before she could open her mouth to answer, Yumi responded angrily.

"Don't bring anyone else into this conversation. This is between Ulrich and myself. It doesn't involve you or Aelita or my parents or anyone," she stated, huffily refilling the napkin holder.

Jeremie scoffed. "What, are you afraid that Aelita won't take your side?"

With that comment, they both turned frustrated faces towards Aelita who seemed to shrink under their fierce glares. She took her time to finish wiping the table and smoothed out the front of her apron before responding.

"Well," she started slowly, carefully avoiding Jeremie's eyes, "I think it's Yumi's decision. You can't help who you love." With that, Aelita shrugged her shoulders and gave an apologetic look to Jeremie.

"When's the last time you even heard from him?" Jeremie said, crossing his arms. Aelita looked at him with pleading eyes, begging him wordlessly to leave the matter be.

The last letter had been dated several weeks ago. Ulrich had written that he was about to start combat and would be unable to send any more letters until his return to Germany in July. Yumi told Jeremie, and he shook his head slowly.

He cracked his fingers nervously, and Yumi turned her head so that she wouldn't have to see Aelita's sympathetic expression.

"I think you're too young for this," Jeremie spoke softly and honestly.

**One Friday night at a football game,  
the Lord's Prayer said and the Anthem sang.  
A man said, "Folks, would you bow your heads  
for a list of local Vietnam dead?"  
Cryin' all alone under the stands  
was a piccolo player in the marching band.  
One name read and no one really cared,  
but a pretty little girl with a bow in her hair.  
**

The dry summer grass crunched under their feet as the crowd made their way onto the bleachers. For such a large crowd, only a soft muttering could be heard. Their words drifted off in the August wind unheard to anyone but their neighbors.

Beyond the stands, the opposing soccer teams stood still as statues. The soccer ball lay abandoned in the middle of the field, waiting for the game to commence.

A complete and eerie silence settled across the school's campus as Principle Delmas walked in front of the crowd, his back to the soccer players.

At his command, hats were removed, and from the high school band, the melody of the national anthem echoed in everyone's ears. Sounds of stifled sobs and comforting whispers joined the harmony of the music, lasting long after the final notes of the anthem.

"Thank you," Principal Delmas told the band mournfully. Then turning to face the crowd once more, he outstretched his arms.

"Would you all kindly bow your heads for a list of local Iraq dead?"

In one swift movement, the crowd bowed their heads as one. Principal Delmas retrieved a list from his pocket and began to read.

"…Henry Brown, Marcus Byrne, Terence Clement…"

Under the stands, Yumi held her breath. Trembling hands pulled the letter and ribbon out of the envelope. Hungrily, she read the familiar handwriting over and over. She could not bring herself to realize that was the last letter she would ever receive from him. Despite her every effort, she found no comfort in the cold black ink that had long since dried.

"…Odd Della Robbia, Anne Franco, Christopher Genoese…"

Numbly, she fumbled with the letter, trying to force it back into the envelope. Tears fell unbidden down her cheeks. She pressed the ribbon to her face, unable to let go. The very weight of her grief pressed against every inch of her being.

"Joseph Lyon, Erik Pascale, Melissa Reeves…"

Unable to support herself any longer, Yumi fell to her knees and crumpled to the ground. Her tears watered the cool earth beneath her, and the heavy scent of grass poisoned her nose.

"…Ulrich Stern…"

Every bone ached. Every muscle stretched. Every nerve burned. The envelope felt too thick and heavy in her hand. She loosened her grip, and the envelope slipped through her fingers.

She shut her eyes tight, trying to conjure the image of Ulrich's smiling, happy face that day in the café. The ribbon, wet and crumpled in her fist, caught the tears that leaked out.

**I cried,  
never gonna hold the hand of another guy.  
"Too young for him," they told her,  
waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier.  
Our love will never end,  
waitin' for the soldier to come back again.  
Never more to be alone when the letter said  
a soldier's comin'…**

_Dear Yumi,_

_I know I wrote to you before and said that I wouldn't be able to write you any more letters. But Sergeant Morales just told our troop that we have to go back to Iraq. I know I said I'd be back with you soon, but there are not enough soldiers in the army for that to happen. We all have to serve more time._

_I'll be back in combat soon, but Sergeant said that us soldiers could write letters before we head off. There's no one else I'd want to write to, Yumi. This letter isn't enough, I know. I'm sorry. If I could be with you right now, trust me. I'd be there in an instant._

_Each night passes and I dream of your smiling face. It helps me get by and it means the world to me to know that someday, I'll be home to see your beautiful smile again._

_  
With this letter, I really do promise to be home soon. And I'd really love it if when I came home, maybe you and I could get married._

_I'm not the smartest guy, and I don't know all the right words to use to tell you how I feel. But I know that I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone in my life. I think I fell in love with you the moment you smiled at me in the Kiwi Café. Even if you don't want to marry me, I'll always remember the day we talked by the factory._

_So I'm sending this letter off with all the love in my heart and the hope that when I get home, you'll answer yes. I love you, Yumi Ishiyama._

_Love always, always, always,  
Ulrich_

**I cried,  
never gonna hold the hand of another guy.  
"Too young for him," they told her,  
waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier.  
Our love will never end,  
waitin' for the soldier to come back again.  
Never more to be alone when the letter said  
a soldier's comin' home.**

* * *

This story was not written so that I could have people review and tell me their opinions about the war in Iraq. Please don't flame my story to only say, "The war is pointless and Bush is stupid!" or "How dare you make it sound like the war is something terrible for our nation!"

If you review, please keep your comments about the story and my writing itself. If you don't think you can stay unbiased about the war, then please don't review.

Thank you, everyone, for taking your time to read this.


End file.
